Story of a Window
by Hada-Fiction
Summary: Alfred and Arthur live in a set of sister high-rise apts and from their windows they can see each other's daily business as it unfolds through the open curtains. Each event of an open/closed window tells a bigger story. Several pairings, eventual USUK. Hiatus.
1. On the Threshold

**Reminder: **Please remember almost all the writing on my account (except 100TC) will be snipets of whatever I've written for the concept. If I can make a complete story out of these I will but for now I just want to post what I have and sort through it later.

**Warnings:** Incomplete, plot-holes, wordiness

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia or its characters, only the bits of silliness I wrote here.

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><p>Chapter One: On the Threshold<p>

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><p>"You have a beautiful body. May I draw you?"<p>

The gaggle the college boys froze in their horseplay to look at the outsider who approached them, sketchbook in hand and a bright expression on his face. The boy's slender frame was a strange contrast to the solid sturdy builds in front him and in all appearances, he looked like the mouse standing up to the lion. Several lions. And an elephant.

"Who...?"

The boy frowned, something small and miniscule, but it was gone as soon as he lifted his other hand wielding a charcoal pencil and used it as a pointer.

"Him!" he cheered with a confident smile. He watched the group trace the pencil's path with their eyes as it delved into the middle of the fray and collided with a head of sunny blond hair. It belonged to someone caught in a headlock and was still seeking escape, believing this distraction would ensure his success. One of those closest to him nudged his arm when he continued to neglect his surroundings.

"Hey, Jones. I think he's talkin' to you." The blond stopped wriggling in the firm and steady grip of his captor to look up, a silent question to his companion, and then to the boy who waited on the grass before him. He started when he saw the pencil's point as if it had hissed at him and he stared wide-eyed at the one who held it firm in his direction.

"Youwanna_what_now?" the blond said, arching an eyebrow. The other followed the first when the boy in front of him laughed and tilted his head.

"I want to draw you, silly! Do you want to be my model?" The blond only marveled at his child-like honesty so he continued, "I'm in Life Drawing class right now, but there weren't enough students for everyone to draw and model in pairs. I asked my professor if I could find someone outside class to draw and he gave the okay!"

That was when he walked briskly up to the blond and leaned down to his level, held his supplies in one hand while offering the other. "So, how about it? Are you free for a couple of minutes?"

The others in the group started to jeer at that blond, who was called Jones wasn't he, and they elbowed him, chuckling amongst themselves even as he broke free the arm that had held him fast. He stood to his full height and rubbed at his neck as he studied the boy in front of him, brow creased trying to decide. Instead, he asked a question.

"What's your name?"

"Feliciano Vargas," he said with another smile. His hand still hovered in the air in offering and the boy called Jones thought to take it after a moment. They shook once, but that moment was enough.

"Alfred F. Jones, at your service!" he announced with a sun-glistened grin. "So, where're we doing this?"

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><p>Feliciano had worked hard to flatter his model's natural features. The strong jaw firm with concentration, his sharp blue eyes fixed at a point on the wall, even the protrusion of tendons and knuckles in his hands as he balanced on them. His subject, Alfred Jones, had picked quite the unorthodox pose when Feliciano had prompted his imagination, which had somehow translated into to holding up his entire body by fists alone and keeping it completely horizontal. As surprising and impractical as it was, he couldn't bring himself to ask for something else when he saw the way it looked in front of him.<p>

Alfred had been more or less a human table and Feliciano had giggled just a few times before he dove into sketching quick and accurate. He didn't want to risk losing such an interesting composition since it looked strenuous, even if Alfred hadn't shown any signs of strain after his first minute or two.

"How are you able to do that?" Feliciano asked to pass the time. Alfred turned his head to look at him before remembering he was supposed to keep still. He even had to suppress the instinct to shrug.

"I've been in the military, Marines to be exact, since I graduated high school. It's been a habit to exercise every day and stay in top shape even if I'm not active at the moment. I got enrolled not too long ago on Uncle Sam's pay no less!"

"You have an uncle who's paying for you tuition? He must be very nice!" Feliciano smiled as he worked to put the final notes on the image. Alfred looked confused for a moment but then laughed a little. Easy mistake?

"No, no. I meant the government, although it'd be pretty sweet if a relative actually offered. No one's doing me any favors like that though."

"Aw, why not? Don't they like you?"

"Eh, it's more like they know I'm an adult and I should be able to take care of it on my own. I can't deny there's plenty of help I can get but..."

"It's always nice to know that your family's around to support you."

"Yeah, exactly! My little bro was like that for me before I moved out, ya know?"

"Ooh, ooh, I have a brother! He came with me to this school! Isn't that cool?"

"Does he draw, like you?"

"No~ 'fraid not, but he doesn't like the same things as me. He likes to cook!"

"Sounds like fun! Is he any good?"

"Yes, big brother is the best! He's amazing at cooking pasta!"

"Sweet! Mine is an English and French literature double major, or, at least that's what he dreams he'll be doing. He's still in high school."

"Wow, that's a lot of work to do! He must be a hard worker."

"He sure is! Mattie loves all them books about writers and philosophers and junk."

"I like books with exotic locations and pretty ladies, and the hero is a suave charismatic kind of guy! He kicks bad guy butt and still manages to keep his cool and his girl!"

"Dude! That's like James Bond or something!"

"Eh, I prefer Fernand Mondego, or D'Artagnan in the movie version."

"Who? But, hey, Indiana Jones sometimes looks a little funny beating up Nazis, but he's got an awesome right hook!" Alfred did an impression of a boxer dealing out a few punches and Feliciano marveled at the strength he put behind them without even trying. He looked like a very convincing fighter the way muscles flexed and how strong his stance kept him in place.

"You look in tip top shape, Alfred. Maybe you could even beat Rocky up the stairs!" he said and smiled. Alfred laughed.

"I'd do more than that! He wouldn't even _see_ the moves I'd put out!" He danced around a little bit, pretending to dodge his invisible opponent's moves as Feliciano giggled at the display. Hearing that made Alfred feel embarrassed and he came to an awkward stop with a sheepish grin.

"Hey, Feliciano?" Feliciano hummed in response which made Alfred laugh once. "This was pretty fun, don't ya think?" Feliciano nodded.

"Mmhm! I liked today! You did a really great pose and it was cool that we could talk like this. I didn't think I would find anyone to model for me so you really helped me out!" The two of them smiled at each other. Alfred was proud of himself for all his hard work and was glad that he could be the hero who saved Feliciano's day. Although, something came to mind that made him frown.

"Next time you have class, do you think you'll still be short a partner?" Feliciano looked surprised as if he hadn't thought of that thought for a moment.

"Well, if I'm lucky there might've been a student absent or a new student might transfer in."

"Yeah, maybe. It kinda seems like a long shot though." Alfred crossed his arms and furrowed his brow a bit. He thought about his schedule at the moment and figured that he had a little too much time to himself. Today had been a good change from staying at home and playing video games or doing nothing but homework; he needed to get out and do something with himself instead of staying cooped up. Something he wouldn't mind doing again. "How about this?"

Feliciano turned away from his thoughts and look up at him, wondering what he meant. "If you're short a partner next time you're in class, you can let me know and I'll come in and pose for you! Does that sound good?"

"You'd do that?" Feliciano was surprised Alfred would offer since he didn't take any art classes, as far as he knew, especially since they had just met.

"Of course I would!" Alfred cheered, "It wouldn't do to just help you once when you might not have a model later. Besides, I liked doing this. It was pretty awesome, to be honest."

"W-well, then that would be great, Alfred! Are you free around this time Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

"Yup! I'll let you know when I have plans but usually I'm just chillin' somewhere right now," he laughed. Feliciano's smile was competing against Alfred's grin for a Hollywood award and winning.

"Wahoo! This is great!" Feliciano jumped up and down. "You're such a great friend, Alfred. I really appreciate this!"

"Hey, don't worry about it. Just call me Al by the way-WOAH!" Alfred was interrupted by a brunette blur colliding with his chest and clinging on tight to his torso. He looked down to find Feliciano grinning back him. His cheeks wore a light blush from his excitement and he looked truly pleased by these turn of events. Alfred found himself smiling back just as bright. "Friends, huh? Sounds awesome."

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><p>Alfred walked into the parking lot feeling good. He whistled and twirled his keys as he strode in between cars glistening from the bright sun indeed satisfied with the day's events. After talking a bit more, he and Feliciano had exchanged cell phone numbers. Alfred was done with his classes for the day, he was on his way out when Feliciano had asked the favor, and his companion went farther into the campus to attend yet another art related class. It made Alfred wonder if he had completed all of his basics and was left with all the good stuff. That concept made sense to him seeing as Feliciano seemed to love that subject the most.<p>

Once Alfred made it to the driver's side of his Mustang GT he stepped in and he started the engine, ready to navigate home. He had a little drive ahead of him since his family's house was an hour away but in the very least Alfred thought it was good to have reliable transportation. The radio had come to life with the engine and a heavy dance beat came from the speakers that made Alfred tap his fingers. He couldn't wait to tell his brother about the new friend he'd made.

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><p>Let me know what you think about this concept through a <strong>review<strong>. Many thanks in advance.


	2. Arthur and Francis

Only two scenes in this excerpt in no chronological order but it is set further into the future when Alfred and Feliciano have started dating and moved into a flat together. The flat was originally used as a meeting place between them for Alfred to model since Feli's Life Drawing classes were done for the time being.

**Reminder: **Please remember almost all the writing on my account (except 100TC) will be snipets of whatever I've written for the concept. If I can make a complete story out of these I will but for now I just want to post what I have and sort through it later.

**Warnings:** Incomplete, plot-holes, wordiness

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own Hetalia or its characters. Francis isn't posh enough and Arthur isn't constantly beating him.

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><p>"Oh ho ho... They are just like newlyweds, those two. They're all over each other," a man's voice said, his English skewed by a French accent. "By the looks of their apartment they've just moved in."<p>

"What's that? Did you see something on the telly?" Another man nearby came to stand by the Frenchman's shoulder and bristled when he saw the subjects of his scrutiny. "Wh-what're you doing spying on another tenant's quarters!"

His companion looked just as amused as when he had held the binoculars up to his face. "Come now, what's wrong with a little healthy curiosity?"

"Curiosity? You're just being a peeping Tom is what you're doing!" The man sitting at the window had his binoculars snatched away in one rough motion; its captor folded his arms and glared him. "Besides, just what is so interesting about this one apartment window?"

The one who sat gave the other raised an eyebrow, an expression that easily asked "isn't it obvious" and was quite effective. The other didn't reply, only stood with the same glare, looking like he demanded a better explanation. There was a sigh and then an obnoxious summary:

"Arthur. When one has nothing to do between jobs, like myself, one tends to find hobbies to pass the time. This is my hobby."

"Spying on others?"

"No, no. You misunderstand." He flipped a hand through his medium-length blond hair, crossing his legs as he said more. "You like those little novels people buy at ninety-nine cent stores and you write them yourself-"

"It's not my fault my publishers rate my work as 'below par' and 'fit for the dusty shelves of a trash bin', now is it?"

"Of course it is. Yet that is rather a matter of taste and beside the point."

"What is your point?"

"My point is you are the type of person who likes words. It is even your profession. As you already know, it is my profession to be around people. I like people, they are my novels." The Frenchman waved a hand about as he explained but let it rest on the binoculars held in Arthur's hand. "All I need to do is watch," he said as he tugged it from those thin fingers, "and their story is laid out to me piece by piece."

"Francis..." Arthur could only glare at him, an intimidating act considering his harsh set of eyebrows, but it was significantly different this time. Francis could see that he was giving in to the idea, or at least would protest less. "If you like the idea so much, there are public places where you can people watch. In that type of situation, I'd have no problem with your little...hobby...simply because no one can expect to maintain the same privacy one has within their own home. Or, rather, there is no one who can enforce it legitimately."

Francis let out an overdramatic sigh and shook his head, "You do not understand, my love. The private sector is a magical place where an everyday man lets his guard down, gives into his guilty pleasures, and believes it is a secret kept between him and the walls. It is the only place one does not pretend for others; there would be quite the story in why one would." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and after a moment ran a hand through his short blond hair while he turned to look out the window. Francis gazed at him with a smug expression and wrapped a hand around his waist.

"What are you up to, you pervert?" Arthur looked down at Francis with a frown at first but upon meeting an earnest smile, he was taken by surprise. Not a word was said as he ushered Arthur to the seat on his left with gentle hands. Arthur didn't resist even if he regarded the man with questioning eyes and shuffled past Francis's legs using the window frame as a railing. Once he was comfortable, Francis sat and draped an arm over Arthur's shoulders.

"Do you see the window with the flowers on the sill?" He pointed with a finger, leaning in close to direct his companion's eyes accordingly. "In there is a tall blond young man who doesn't look a day over twenty. He lives with another young man, a brunette who is just as cheerful as he is. He's the one who put those flowers there not too long ago and he waters them every day like clockwork." Francis took Arthur's silence as an opportunity to continue.

"Their windows are open quite often. The way I sometimes catch either one of them basking in the sun leads me to assume they both rather enjoy natural light and warmth." He glanced at Arthur from the corner of his eye. Arthur's features were more open now, his brow drawn together a bit as he tried to see what Francis had described. 'He looks much like a child this way,' Francis thought with a secret smile but continued before he became suspicious.

"The room we are looking at is the living area, the same as where we are, perhaps a little less lived in than here; it means their move was recent." Arthur scoffed.

"I could've told you that much. I don't believe you're proving your point very well with this. I expected something a little harder to ascertain than mere impersonal facts."

"Ah, if you want something more, my ever cynical lover, I shall give you more." Francis purred in his ear, smiling at the way his cheeks and ears became red. Arthur's hand came to meet that same ear and he looked indignant at the statement. Before he could get a word in Francis started up again about their subjects. "I know that they are in love. Although, what I have seen says the blond loves more than the brunette. It is," he hummed as he searched for a word, "one-sided in a way."

"What makes you say that?" Arthur hadn't noticed how he leaned closer to Francis at the thought but he kept his eyes trained on the window hoping to see a glimpse of that story for himself. He missed the wistful smile Francis made as he spoke.

"I see it in the way they hug, how they kiss. Their body language has much to say about how they love. It is still new between them and I know this because they are unsure at times. The brunette seems to have something he can't let go of because friendly acts are in abundance but there is something lacking in his intimacy that is...hard to explain." Their eyes met for a moment.

"What of the blond? How does he react?"

"I fear he does not see it. Or perhaps he allows it, however, for how long remains to be seen."

"Please tell me there's something good about this couple besides sunshine and a patch of buttercup and roses."

"I want to believe so, I really do."

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><p>Arthur wanted to personify his article and strangle it. It was being quite literally a pigheaded, stubborn, little bugger. One who would neither let Arthur write nor let him forget about it and take a break. It was a childish adult, bullying him with crocodile tears but refusing his care. This in itself caused him had him in a perpetual state of frustration and stress. Something had to be done or he'd never have peace with the brat – er, he meant article. It was when Francis came strolling in with a bottle of brandy in the groceries that he came up with a brilliant plan: get drunk, and with any luck, write the holy mess out of the thing 'til his article was a thing of beauty. Or at least, something well behaved. I've been around Peter for too long, Arthur thought, handling my brother has me applying parenting skills to everything.<p>

Francis was going on about what he'd cook for dinner tonight, gesturing with the neck of the bottle this way and that, and Arthur pretended to listen as he walked into the kitchen behind him. They stowed the rest of the groceries away save for a few ingredients and the brandy bottle. Perfect, he thought, it won't be much longer until have you my prize. He smiled as Francis turned his back to Arthur and set the brandy on a nearby counter on his way to the pantry. Just one twist had it open and he had already snatched a cup from the cupboard ready to pour. Francis just happened to be quicker and stopped his tirade long enough to set his eyes on Arthur's handiwork.

"What are you doing, mon cher?" His face was blank without a trace of humor. Arthur's hand twitched but otherwise successfully poured himself a glass without batting an eyelash.

"Getting drunk so my article will stop being an unruly child." Francis watched Arthur put the glass to his lips and take a large gulp.

"I see," he said frowning, "You do realize that is cooking brandy, yes?" Arthur smirked as he knocked back some more and shrugged.

"So? Still gets you drunk either way and I need this." He finished his cup off and moved to help himself again.

"You'll not have another drop!" Francis gripped the neck and blocked its top with his thumb. They stared each other down for a moment. Arthur looked as though he really would fight over a little thing like this, probably accusing Francis of interfering with his work. Francis's lips quirked at a thought.

"If you're so hard pressed for ideas there's a lovely wall in the hallway that you could strike-" Francis thumped Arthur in the forehead "-up a conversation with."

"What?" Arthur tested Francis's grip with a tug and found that it wouldn't budge as much as he'd liked. He clucked his tongue. "This is hardly something to joke about. It's my paycheck we're talking here, please be serious."

"Oh, I'll be serious if it'll keep you away from my brandy. I cook with this and unless you don't want another meal from me, you'll shed your hermit clothes and go buy your cheap liquor from a corner store." Arthur glared at him, sparing a begrudging glance at the bottle, before he huffed and walked away. He knew better than to put proper meals in jeopardy, even if they were French, and settled for retreating to the hall closet for his coat.

"Fine, fine, keep your silly sauce maker. I'm going out."

The door closed and Francis thought for a moment how ridiculous the whole situation had been. Before he could think much more the door opened once more and Arthur called out, "Do you want cigarettes while I'm about, love?" Francis huffed with a small smile on his face as he replied.

"Oui, get two. Sharing a pack was romantic but not for your stress or my convenience. Now, run along. Dinner will be done in ten minutes." He heard Arthur hum in agreement and as he turned to leave he said, "Oh, and one more thing Arthur."

"What is it, Francis? It's starting to rain." Arthur started to grow impatient and knew if he stayed around too long Francis would think of a million things to fetch.

"If they are being so naughty then, perhaps you should give them a good spanking."

"What are you- never mind Frog, I'm leaving." Francis heard Arthur mutter before the door shut again. He chuckled and debated whether Arthur really thought of his works as children while he pulled everything together on the stove.

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><p>Any thoughts on the chapter? Any at all? Let me see it in a <strong>review<strong>. If you'd like to know more about the characters lined up, feel free to PM me.


	3. A Little More Around Us

"So, we're deciding on keeping the space?" Alfred asked. Feliciano nodded a smile plastered on his face. He looked ready to bounce right out of his shoes. Alfred laughed. "All right, I'll go tell the landlord and we'll rent it out for…what, a month or two?"

Feliciano thought for a moment before he said, "Well, we were only checking the place out, I thought, so I didn't bring any money with me. It wouldn't be fair to ask you for it all."

"What about I pay for one month, and if you're still up for using me as a model, then you can pay for the next month? Does that sound good?" Feliciano hummed in thought.

It didn't take him long to agree with Alfred's proposition and even added, "Don't worry, your definitely too interesting to paint and draw for only a month! This way I can pay you back for the favor." He smiled.

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><p>One minute there was plenty of commotion coming from across the way and then the next it ended. It was a pleasant surprise to Alfred, who had to suffer their intense and somewhat random battles; ones that didn't have even the decency to be discreet. He began to relax as he heard the muted sounds of the neighborhood, a bird chirping here and there nearby. A small smile graced his lips and he nestled himself further into his blankets not wanting to start the day just yet. He now had some peace in the morning for once and was not about to waste it on chore that could wait until later.<p>

It wasn't that his apartment was in a bad neighborhood. The houses surrounding the Twin Dragons high-rise complex were decent but homey, there weren't too many children around, and the residents were pleasant enough. Even the high-rise itself wasn't too shabby where it mattered, even if it could use some freshening up. Things were uneventful where he lived, save for the traffic at the corner nearby and that one noisy apartment. Alfred didn't know if he was more bothered by the destructive fighting he heard at any given time or the other noises that were of a more intimate quality. Nevertheless, he felt the quiet today was a present for his limited patience winning out.

After a few moments sprawled out on his bed, Alfred checked his watch. He figured now was as good a time as any to get started and pushed himself off the bed. A shower and breakfast of cereal later Alfred was dressed in a tank top and shorts, pulling his keys off the kitchen counter and heading outside. As he locked up, he looked down the halls to find it empty with nothing but spacious windows at both ends and dulled red carpet lining the floor.

Alfred passed by intricate mirrors with faded frames and colorful vases holding fake plants by the doors leading to the stairs. In the stairwell, he jogged down to the ground floor and opened another door leading to the lobby. It was small but just as modest as the upper floors and held a pseudo-modern decorum that mixed a few styles together. Alfred figured it took a keen eye to make it all work and it was fitting of the image his landlord put across. He knocked on the door across the lobby with the words "Management" on it.

"Come in," he heard but didn't understand the string of words that came after. It sounded like a phone call. Alfred opened the door and stood waiting in the office.

It was a cramped space but kept neat: a few folding stools were propped against the wall to his left where there was also a calendar hanging with beautiful scenery of some countryside for each month. A bookshelf stood adjacent filled with items mostly in another language and right above it was a wide window with its blinds open to the sunshine. His landlord sat on a high bar stool in front of the desk next to the bookshelf, twirling the telephone cord around his finger pinning the receiver against his shoulder as he wrote. Labeled keys on hooks covered half of the wall to his left and had keys to everything from the boiler room to the skylight in the penthouses on the top floor.

There were a few more words exchanged as Alfred inspected a strange looking altar on top of the bookshelf that displayed oranges and a few sticks of incense burning slow in their holders. Alfred leaned closer to look at the picture on the inside but was interrupted.

"Don't touch that, very bad luck to disturb the ancestor's altar." Alfred looked up to see his landlord off the phone now and raising an eyebrow at him. Alfred smiled and straighten up.

"Hey, Yao. Ready to train?" Yao Wang was the owner of the building and the one across the courtyard. Rumor said he built it all from scratch but Alfred was sure that he'd mostly hired help since making a high rise wasn't exactly like sandcastles at the beach. Yao sighed and pulled his ponytail tighter before he slid off the bar stool.

"Do you have the rent?" He held out his hand. Alfred laughed and handed him an envelope, to which Yao nodded and locked it away in a drawer. He then gestured for Alfred to follow him out a different door. It lead to a tiled backyard with bonsai growing and flowers growing in pots here and there. Yao rolled his shoulders back and shook out his limbs a little. As he bounced on his toes, Alfred started to mirror him and stretching out his muscles. After a moment Yao straightened and waited for Alfred to do the same.

"Now, in order for you to reach higher levels of self-defense, you must learn to control your movements and build up the strength that comes from it. For that reason we will be training in Tai Chi first." Alfred huffed.

"Isn't Tai Chi for people who meditate and grannies who don't want to do water aerobics?" Yao raised an eyebrow him and frowned. He cocked his head to the side and put his hands on his hips.

"Yes and no. Tai Chi is a versatile discipline, as are the other sects of martial arts, casual learners gain benefit from it's techniques so do not berate them." Alfred jumped when Yao voice raised in displeasure. "It also doubles as defense, but know this: all of this means nothing if you cannot use it correctly. Use it for peace, use it for strength, but careless knowledge hides both from your sight."

Alfred nodded at those words, thinking of a time when it was true for him more than ever. Back in the mud and the rain with urgent shouts like the fire on his heels, in the halls with a toothbrush and the urge to fall asleep-it couldn't have helped him more than when he was deployed. Simple tasks became the foundation of his courage and his instinct. And through it all, those truths brought him back home. He sighed and nodded again, this time while looking Yao in the eyes with understanding. Those eyes lingered for moment too and then flickered away.

"Now, let us begin."

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><p>All things considered, Alfred was quite a beautiful man. His smile and face had a movie star's quality yet Feliciano knew that Alfred was still different from a magazine pinup. Those sky blue eyes were more intelligent than he let on and every once in a while he could see the man who had been in battle with a hidden enemy, someone who couldn't afford to be oblivious and silly. Otherwise, he would've been good as dead.<p>

No, Alfred was different from the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. His physique wasn't a tool to attract a date or to raise his self-esteem it was his most important tool for survival. Those hard muscles were sculpted from the efforts of manual labor and discipline; trained for optimal stamina and agility until he was ready for the rough and dirty jobs. When it came down to it, Alfred was deadly. And something about that Feliciano thought was thrilling.

He lowered himself onto the couch cushions smiling at Alfred above him. Alfred smiled back as he obeyed Feliciano's hand that coaxed him forward on his hands and knees.

(( Should I continue this scene? :3 ))

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><p>[If you can't guess whose point-of-view this is…you need to get out.]<p>

I met Francis my second year working for the local paper. The first assignment I was to collaborate on was political in nature and, seeing as it was to be a top news story, my superiors commissioned Francis to photograph alongside my article. He seemed subdued at first, though at certain comments I did find a calculating glint to his eyes, but our teamwork allowed for the article to be finished on schedule. Francis wasn't someone who struck a chord in me until much later. He said that securing a contract with the syndicate was his first priority, never mind how "alluring and precocious" I happened to be. Well, I could never say he didn't focus when it came to work.

Francis was able to charm up the editors enough that they commissioned him a few more times here and there. He and I worked together more often than not and soon became comfortable enough to exchange witty remarks all in good nature. It wasn't long before he had signed a two-year contract and almost straight after asked me out to dinner. I thought it seemed harmless enough. Perhaps he wanted to celebrate worming his way in and invited the only person on staff with whom he happened to be acquainted. It wasn't a big deal until we ended up having a bout of rigorous sex in my flat and the next morning he cooked me breakfast.

He rooted himself into almost every inch of my life after that and we've been in and out love ever since.

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><p>[Alfred's POV, Set further into the future.]<p>

I heard someone sigh and looked up to find a man staring at me as he leaned against the gate. When we made eye contact, he spoke.

"Such a sad expression does not belong on a handsome face such as yours. So young, what could possibly be troubling you?" I wasn't sure if I really wanted anyone prying at the moment so I tried to brush it off.

"Oh, you know: typical teenage drama. He said, she said, bullshit." The man seemed to light up when I mentioned drama and decided to sit next to me on the bench. He gathered himself up ready for me to say more and when I didn't' he gazed beyond to the street full of cars and people walking by. He hummed.

"You know, I have some 'drama' as you put it." I glanced at him but didn't say anything. "My lover and I have troubles all the time but that is not the problem. It has turned away from small and petty subjects to something of a serious kind and I worry." He sighed, crossing his legs at the knee and reclining against the backrest.

"He is the love of my life yet it seems lately we're become each other's curse. 'The bane of my existence' he once said. He is very delicate, you see, so the tiniest things can spark his temper." He reached inside one of the pockets of his coat, paused, and then searched a few more before he gave up.

"That's right," he said, "I'd forgotten we are out to buy more cigarettes, how absentminded of me." He laughed once and sent a glance my way in time to see my smile. "Ah hah! So wonderful to see your smile, my angel, do not let such talk keep you from being happy. I told you about myself yet I haven't run out of things to brighten my day." I turned to look at him better and the smile he was wearing had enough happiness behind it that he couldn't have been hiding much. He shifted to look at a pair of birds that had just flown onto a nearby branch. It was a peaceful silence as a light breeze picked up and rustled the trees.

"So, do you think you'll stay together?" All his talk made me curious about what he thought the future held. He hummed in question before posing to think about the answer. Before he could do much more I saw someone walk up to the gate then turn around to look at us. This guy had short dirty blond hair and a Mr. Rogers outfit on, along with big bushy eyebrows to go with his frown.

"There you are," he huffed, putting his hands on his hips. "I thought you were going to wait here by the gate." My company stood and kissed him on the forehead.

"Being as old as you are, I figured I should get ready to fend off a century or two before you arrived, mon cœur." The other man stuttered and pushed him away, walking off on his own.

"Being unable to stand for a few minutes proves you're the creaking door hinge of the two of us." I guess it was some kind of inside joke for them because the guy was smiling a little when he turned to look back. The man smiled as he watched him make it halfway to the street.

"He'll be fine," he said to me. I hadn't noticed that I was outright staring at their scene but it didn't seem to bother him. The man chuckled and held out his hand, "My name is Francis. What is yours, angel?"

As I was about to speak we both heard a voice yell. "If you don't move your arse, I'll lock you out when I get home!" Francis used that as his cue to exit but not before winking and waving to me.

"Ah, yes, I believe we still have some time left yet." I watched them walk away together and link arms as they turned the corner. I was nice that some people were still trying even when things weren't always good. They seemed tough enough to take anything the other would throw at them and it made me laugh to think of it. That Francis guy seemed to give some good advice. I wondered what he would've said on the subject of someone stealing your lover away.

* * *

><p>AN: A treat for waiting so long for me to turn out something for this story: ( story-through-a-window . tumblr . com ) I have a few pictures there and some background information about the characters that I have already introduced (and some that I will very soon). Also check out (news-demon . tumblr . com) for updates on all my working fics here on ffnet.

I hope you can forgive me since there are things that take priority but I haven't made much time to spare on my little darlings. Anonymous asks are open on tumblr so even if you don't have an account you can still ask me anything pertaining to the story and I'll answer it (without giving spoiler, of course). If you'd rather review, I'd appreciate any feedback you can give me. I'll be writing more in the future, on this and other stories, so I hope you'll continue to enjoy.


	4. Announcement

I'll be mirroring my stories posted here on to LiveJournal where commenting will be easier. :D Of course getting updates for M rated stories and others not appropriate for will be more of an effort but I'll have the link in my profile for those willing to travel a few links to see more. Sorry for the inconvience but I don't want my stories to be deleted. I'll still have rating appropriate stories posting here but for series that I'm not sure will have higher ratings in the future (Resident Monster, Story of a Window) I'll have to move them entirely. At the most I might be able to post side stories here that won't affect the main storyline and simultaneously won't be deleted.

Thanks for reading this and hope to see more of you in the future. Livejournal and my settings allow anonymous commenting (as well as login using Facebook) so don't be shy about commenting.


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